Love Blotted Parchment
by Lady Lullabies
Summary: A fanfic involving two of J.K's characters - loosely based on Romeo and Juliet.


_Love Blotted Parchment_

_**Chapter One  
**__**Velvet Angel **_

Whoever would have thought that starlight could ever seem threatening? Tonight I thought that very thing. Stars floating in the raven coloured sky above poured light upon my secret walk. As I crept as quiet as an owl in midnight flight the stars threatened to uncover the mysteries of my stroll in the dark hours. I was terrified of getting caught and having to make up some unbelievable excuse for my nightime wandering. Although I did have a stack of pre-baked excuses ready to use when they were needed. One was that I was sleepwalking, another was that I thought I could hear an injured animal crying, so I came outside to see if I could help. These were by far the best of the bunch but as unoriginal as they were they were all I could come up with; and believe me, I'd been stretching my imagination to it's pitiful limit, but let's not get into the tragedies of my under nourished imagination. The moon was a crescent tonight, a sly smile mocking my attempts at going about my business unnoticed. The way I'm telling this story makes it sound as though I had been travelling for hours over harsh landscape and through destructive weather. When in actual fact I had only snuck down two flights of stairs, along one corridor, out one door, down one long path, through an archway wreathed in ivy arms, and out into the courtyard which was the destination of my one-girl mission. The courtyard is large and sheltered by overgrown evergreens too tall to see over, even from the highest windows. It is seldom used by professor nor student, I'm not sure exactly why but I think it must have something to do with a rumour started by some stupid first year trying to make a name for his or herself, that stuck in the school like the ghosts, as so many do in this place. It's lucky that the courtyard is barely occupied, otherwise the forbidden lovers who have made it their place to whisper sweet everything and cry sorrowful tears would have no almost-safe place to do those lovely things without being seen. One of the pair of forbidden lovers walked over to an old stone bench in the far-left corner of the yard. She sat and waited in perfect silence for her unintended to arrive. Of course he wasn't there yet; he's male, what do you expect? I shouldn't really say that as I'm the one who is usually late, but that's only because I'm normally more careful on my journey. Tonight I was far too excited to be as careful as usual. I had only glimpsed my fair-haired prince in the dining hall and out of the corner of my eye at the sorting ceremony. The sorting ceremony is such a tedious event to have to attend i _every year /i _, I suppose some people enjoy it though. Mad. Back to my subject; tonight and my fair-haired prince…

We hadn't had the chance to see each other properly since the end of last term. My goodness, I don't know how I managed to keep my heartbeat from stopping. The occasional letter was written and sent via post owl to it's intended recipient, but we were so terrified of getting caught that we adopted fake names and used owls from other households to protect the original home of the letter. Merlin only knows what might have happened if our letters had wound up in the wrong hands. I don't even want to think about it. The letters that I wrote to my prince were written on the finest parchment I could find, and written in my neatest, most perfect handwriting, with my best quill and ink. I even dabbed a little of my favourite perfume onto the parchment so that he could smell me even if he couldn't see me. The letters I received from him were incredibly long and beautifully crafted, the parchment felt like silk against my skin, ink of the deepest black formed word and sentences of love and sorrow. His letters were more like Shakespearean verse than a letter to a loved one. I had never read anything so beautiful. I must have read each line at least a thousand times. By the end of the holidays I could recite parts of some letters by heart, and his wonderful words swam in continuous ribbons through my mind. I was in a daze all holiday, 'away with the faeries' is what mum said, although she had no idea why. Thank goodness.

Before I sat down on the ancient bench I placed a single red rose in the centre of the immense courtyard. This was our signal to one another that one of us was already there and waiting for their sweetheart. The bench is partly hidden by overhanging branches so that it makes the perfect spot to hide from prying eyes and passers by. I sat at the end of the bench most thickly covered by greenery and waited in anticipation of seeing my blond-haired prince for the first time in what felt like centuries. I hadn't been waiting long when I heard the light tapping of rhythmic footsteps upon the time worn grey slabs, which made up a solid floor. Those oh-so familiar butterflies began to flutter their petite wings in my empty stomach. As the footsteps grew louder and closer the tiny butterflies made their way up to my heart, where they flapped those minute wings s vigorously that I thought they might explode from my chest. Thankfully that didn't happen. The footsteps stopped - he'd picked up my rose. They started again - closer, closer, louder, louder, until one long leg swathed in night-black stretched into my line of vision. It was followed by another and a perfectly sculpted, healthy body. The most beautiful head I had ever laid my young eyes upon sat atop a strong neck and shoulders. A mixture of relief and excitement froze my lips and throat; I could not speak a word.

Happiness overwhelmed me and flooded from my eyes in salty oceans of tears. As though life were pouring out of me; I choked a little, but managed to calm myself with a few deep breaths. I had stood up from my seat of expectation and wrapped my arms heavily about my sweetheart's shoulders, draping myself over him like some extravagant robe. I pulled back and looked into his eyes, were they blue or were they brown? I couldn't focus my attention on them; there was so much to take in. we sat upon the time-eroded bench and stared into each other's tear stained faces. In his hands he held the two roses; one mine, one his. We had picked them from a rose bush that marked the edge of a pathway in the grounds, and put an enchantment upon them so that they would not wither away until our love for each other died a horrible death. We also made sure that the roses were invisible to anyone but the two of us. The spell was complicated but we managed to accomplish our desired results first time around. It involved a strand of hair from the lovers' heads, an extremely potent invisibility potion which we had stolen from the top shelf of Snape's store cupboard, and a rather lengthy chant to be chanted under a full moon at midnight. We had enchanted the roses back in April last year when we first spoke of our undying love for one another. It was under rather strained circumstances that the realisation of our forbidden attraction was spoken for the first time, but that's another story.

A gentle white finger swept hair from my face and tucked it carefully behind my right ear. He had placed the enchanted roses beside him on the bench so that we could sit with our knees touching and my right hand in his left. His hair was spiked slightly but otherwise scruffy, just the way I like it. The scents radiating from his pale skin into the air were not the usual manufactured chemical sprays that everyone else wears. They were aromas of cinnamon, ginger, and a hint of apple cider. He smelt delicious, edible even. The effort he had put into looking nice for me was more than obvious, but that's good; it shows he cares. He wore a long hooded robe of black velvet, so luxurious that it took my breath away. I began to wish that I had worn something different, the sleeveless dress I was wearing is my favourite but the night air was chill, and goose pimples were erupting all over my arms. It's amazing how all those star burning so bright up there produce such little heat for us nightime wanderers and stay warm under. My beautiful prince must have noticed that I was in the beginning stages of looking like a chicken plucked of its feathers because he opened his robe and snuggled my inside. His body was warm and firm, I felt safer than I had in a long time tucked up against his torso. That smell was so intense, I could have drifted off into dreamland I was so comfortable.

"Do you believe in soul mates?" I felt rather than heard these words. It had been so long since my ears had been graced by his sweet voice.

"Yes, I do".

"So do I. I'm certain that we are soul mates. We're destined to be together, I'm sure of it" His voice was so soft and full of honesty, such a contrast to the façade he puts up in front if his peers and family. I feel so honoured to be able to know this side of him when no one else does. I wish it didn't have to be this way. Secret relationships are not all they're cracked up to be.

"We are soul mates. This connection that we have can't be anything but the bonding of our souls. We _are _soul mates" He smiled down on me like droplets of sunshine, causing my lips to imitate the shape of his. We smiled at each other, just smiled. It was so comfortable, even the silence of out voices was comfortable. There was no need to speak; our smiles and sighs said it all, loud and clear. If anyone had walked in on us I don't think we would have cares, I know that I could have died here and been quite happy about it. Nothing else matters when we're together. I am so in love that words cannot express the depth of my emotions. I feels absolutely wonderful. My goodness, I sound so cliché.

"I love you", the sounds rolled off my tongue without being told to, as though they couldn't hold themselves back any longer, they had to escape.

He pulled me up and drew me close to him so that I could feel his breath upon my lips. The kiss that came next was slow and long, euphoric like the peak of happiness. We lingered there, lips melted together, tongues touching each others'. It felt like we were merging into one being. Our mouths were the same temperature, they were the same mouth. Syliva mixed together like gentle waves, coiling through our one lovely mouth in whirls of loving grace.

"I love you too Virginia. How could I not? You are divine" we fell into a tender embrace.

"What do you think would happen if we ranaway to some far-off land that hardly anyone knows of?", He was dreaming again.

"They'd find us. They'd find a way to split us apart and ruin our lives. Besides, if we wait a few more years we can elope and the law would be on our side, anyone trying to stop us would find themselves on the

wrong side of Azkaban". He knew I was right, I wish I wasn't though. If we ranaway together we would certainly be killed by Lucious Malfoy's minions, even though he is in Azkaban he'd find a way to get to us.

"A few more years then. This is torture", his voice cracked a little but promptly regained it's usual composure. There were glinting tears threatening to break free from the corners of his slighty swollen eyes, I wanted to lap them up and soothe them away so that he wouldn't feel the sting of his suffering. His pain is my pain is our pain.

Never in my darkest dreams had I imagined love to be so traumatic. We were prisoners held within our own hearts, sent there by family ties and disapproving eyes. Why was it that we were born into families who held such hatred for one another? Don't get me wrong I adore my family to fragments, don't doubt that for an instant, I just wish with all my heart that the Malfoy's weren't so damned prejudice against those with less fortune than them. I wish my family and the Malfoy's could exist together on some kind of common ground. I suppose this is what makes us strong though. If our relationship can survive this period of isolation then it can undoubtly survive anything life hurls at it. You know what they say: 'What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger'. I hope to the edges of sanity that that philosiphy is true in our case.

Thie kisses that are shared as our meetings in the dark draw to a close become increasingly painful each time. Every touch of lips is like a knife driving into the heart, pushing itself deeper with every gasp for air. Oxygen feels like sandpaper in my lungs, scratching away at my ability to breathe. It disperses into individual grains as oxygen connects with bloodstream. Like razor-edged bullets the ting grains bury into my arteries and veins to form deep seated agony. Life flows slower and slower as we part company - rose in my hand and knife in my chest I step away, leaving my soul behind.

"Goodbye until tomorrow my beautiful darling". Oh my, my heart is shattering, breaking, crumbling to pieces. My glass heart. My big red, throbbing, see-through heart is collapsing like a burst balloon. All that filled my ears was the sounds of anguish and of my breaking heart. This thick nothingness of desperation wrapped me up in smothering waves, and the absolute inabilty to feel anything other than empty washed everything away.

Once my metaphorical heart had succeeded in obliterating itself into millions of useless splinters, I stumbled through the archway and up the path lined with sleeping green bushes, through and along a door and corridor, up winding cases of stairs and into the dormitory which is my place of sleep and study. I sit at this desk of mahogany legs and body and scribble my emotions all over this parchment. There is no one to talk to but this roll of poor quality parchment and my mute quill. The risks we're taking are life threatening, we may as well be fed to giants. Our love is so dangerous and opressive but at the same time I feel liberated from day-to-day existance. The monotonous rhythm of these melancholy hours gains a melody, harmony and independant beat when my heat begins to throb steadily against my ribs and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. It's him, my Slytherin prince, who gives meaning to living. I don't know how much longer I can stand all this secrecy and heartache. We've endured over a year of meeting in the dead of night and passing each other by without so much as a glance, the stress amounting over this long period is starting to seep from me, soon it will pour.

I have noticed a change in Draco's behaviour during the day. He seems very withdrawn and distant from his fellow Slytherins and he doesn't so much as jab a mocking glance at any Gryfindors. I'm worried that someone will come to realise our stituation and interfere, although in a way I would love someone to talk to, someone to give me advice and share with me their words of wisdom. If Hermione wasn't so honest with Harry and Ron then I would confide in her, but I just know that she would fly off the broom handle. There's always Luna I suppose. No, not Luna, I don't know how trustworthy she is. Our relationship is not worth losing over my inability to cope with these inevitable feelings, I'm just going to have to stick it out and continue the secrets and lies. Go with the flow.

This chair is beginning to feel harder than solid against my soft flesh, I need to sleep but thoughts of my forbidden are weaving through my mind like there's no tomorrow. My long silky nightgown is cold and comforting on my body, it covers me in pearly white like purity and grace. I need something pure to drive me along, some grace to stop me from falling flat on my face all the time. My hair is knotted, a mass of matted rust-red and gold strands drape themselves heavily over my confused head like congealed straw and blood. I need to shower, to feel water flow over my skin and cleanse me of dirt and emotional debris. Pure, clean water to fill me with warmth, with the reassurance that I am not alone. My arms and legs are heavy and limp as I stagger towards my unmade bed, my head feels clogged up as though it is filled with cotton wool or polystirene, I am a complete and total mess. Sleep, give me sleep. I need to fall into unconiousness and dream of nothing but sweet and light. Take me away, take me somewhere, anywhere but here.

Starlight poured through my windows and lulled me to sleep with comforting silence and colourless dreams.


End file.
